Orange que te quiero verde, that's Poeticah
The Visual Poetry of Poeticah explores the boundaries between poetry, languages, and traditional with computer visual art.
This is a poem from my chapbook Axtlanadu.
La Conga Vira
Crazy vira spreads from Cuba.
Try vaccination, sanitation.
Nothin works cuz it's too late.
It's gonna get ya!
Palm trees grow n dance inside ya.
Coconuts fall n bounce within ya.
Strings are beats n yo ah puppet.
La Conga rules ya!
Suga cane grows in yo veins.
Are ya ready?
Cane juice squirts into yo blood.
Feels like coca now yo wired.
Hands bang down, beat down yo head.
Da beat is potent!
Soon yo head gets flatta flatta.
What's goin up ya?
Now yo head looks like a drum head.
La Conga strikes ya!
Now ya feel like gobs o clay.
Spring away don't let it shape ya.
Must resist it!
Beat too hot yo clay gives in.
It loves ta mold ya.
Twista hits n sweeps ya up.
Twirls ya inta spinnin cylinda.
When ya fall, ya be transformed.
Now YOU'RE a conga!
Conga heat waves
Wanna have my
Conga wag ya! Oh! Yeah!